Red Rose Rising
by Psyx
Summary: Youji x Aya fanfic. May involve character death, I don't know yet... Btu I doubt it...
1. Red Rose Rising Chapter 1

_Spin Blade_

"Okay. We got all that? Good. Now where the hell is Omi?" The words were barely audible through the crackling of the walkie-talkie.

"Chill Ay-"

"How many times Balinese? The name is Abyssinian!"

"See what I mean? He's the only hacker who could get through the firewall round the security systems. Just let him do his magic. He'll tell us when he's ready."

The receiver chirped again, and flicked channels.

"Balinese? You there? Balinese, come in!"

"Yes, Balinese here. Go on."

"The system is doubly protected. I got through the first layer, but for the other you need another disc. Which we don't have."

"Shit!"

"Hey, chill. You can do this is the time you've got without the system down. Persia thought this could happen. You and Abyssinian get in through the walkway, go through the north heading vent, and the target's in the middle of the floor, surfing on his laptop. It'll probably have a camera, so you use the wire."

Another chirp, another channel.

"This is Abyssinian. Have you got in yet?"

"Not yet. It's got more protection than we thou -"

The receiver cut out, battery dead.

"SHIT!!! OMI!! OMI COME IN!!!" Aya slumped back against the cold stonewall. His walkie had given out before he knew what to do. Youji was going to have a field day with this. He would have to get hold of Youji, and hope he knew what was happening. He crept round the corner, katana half unsheathed. The business park was deserted, only the inner rooms were guarded. Aya crouched as a cloud crossed the moon, leaving the landscape brighter than before. His reflexes were ready, if moonbeams made him want to fight.

A dark shape silently moved above him on the roof. Youji recognised it as Ken, flicking his receiver switch. He sighed, and then spinning his hidden wire out, he caught an outcrop in the rock, tugged, and climbed up the wall. He didn't bother to conceal himself that much, because he knew the estate was deserted. The older assassin walked up behind Ken, making skilled ninjas sound like a brass band compared to him.

"Well, hello there!" He exclaimed, intending to scare the uptight Ken.

"Shut up Youji. I can't get hold of Aya. He's either dead, or his battery's gone."

"He's Aya. He won't be dead. I'll go find him." Youji began to sulk off, when a faint yell rose up: "shit...Omi...Omi..."

"What the hell was that?" Ken was startled. His nerves got the better of him, at last. "My God! Supposing he's dead? Oh my god, Omi's dead, isn't he?"

"Erm, Ken? If he was in trouble, he would have told us, no? And besides, that was Aya yelling. It's just probably his receiver's cut out before Omi's told him what's happening." Youji grinned. "I told him to recharge it! Anyway, while you have a emotional breakdown, I'll go and put him out of his misery, shall I?" Ken merely gave him a death stare that would have killed if Youji hadn't had his glasses on.

"Ouch. Anyway, before I go and get killed for Aya's sake; how did you know I was there? I was dead silent!"

"That was the give away. It suddenly went quiet. The manic laughter stopped." Ken replied, with his back still turned, oiling his bugnuks.

"I was laughing? Really? I didn't even notice! I really am going ins-" He saw Ken's grinning face. "Oh, shut up." Youji headed for the fire escape, intending to go down the stairs, when he saw a dim spark of red moving on the ground. This way would be more fun.

Aya stopped and listened hard. He could hear nothing except a rushing of air as something hurtled towards him... He froze, heard it was coming from above, and spun round and up, whipping his katana round his shoulders, then jumping up and slashing the air.

"Is that a sword in my ribs, or are you just not happy to see me?" Laughter followed. "And up we go!" An arm wrapped round Aya's waist, and he was jerked off his feet, and travelling up. He didn't bother to resist, but some violence would work well. He slapped the flat of his still unsheathed katana against the knuckles of the hand that gripped his ribcage.

"Nyuh! That hurt Aya!"

"That was the idea." The air around Aya's words would have frozen. After 30 feet of stony silence, they reached the apex of the roof, and Youji let go of Aya, sucking his knuckles.

"Now you can't drop me, what the hell was THAT?" Aya yelled. He had just been snatched off his feet, in pitch-blackness, and carried up 50 feet of concrete, and his shoes were scuffed. "You could have just TOLD me to get up here, couldn't you? I mean, it's not that hard just to tell someone to go somewhere? Then you come swooping down and grab me by the waist, and carry me off! I could have taken your stupid head off! What the hell were you thinking?"

Ken and Youji stood there, stunned. Aya usually had a silent icy cold anger that froze all within 100 yards. However, he had just spewed molten lava over the near vicinity.

"What?" It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Neither Youji or Ken moved. A sudden crackle from Youji's receiver made them all jump.

"Balinese? Balinese? Where the hell are you? Get in now!"

"Sure, Omi."

"And was that Abyssinian yelling just then? What happened?" Aya glared at Youji.

"Uhh, yeah, you'll hear about it later..." Youji replied, keeping his eyes on Aya, just in case he decided to attack again.

"Whatever. Just go now! And get Ken-kun to stay back"

"MY NAME IS NOT KEN-KUN!!" A crackle answered him. Aya and Youji looked at each other."Ken-kun?" They both said together."Uhh, yeah, you'll hear about it later too..." Even through the darkness they could see the red storming across Ken's face."Okay. Moving on swiftly. Aya. We're going in through the walkway, after Omi clears it, and then through the north vent. Drop out through the last exit, target is in the middle of the floor, at a maple wood desk, surfing the Internet on a silver laptop. I'll use the wire, the laptop will have a camera on it." Youji reeled this information off easily. Perfect memory had some use in his life, except for phone numbers."Okay, Omi told you all that, right?" Aya was incredulous. Omi had only been in for about tem minutes, and he had seen all that?"Not all of it. I can see him through the window over there." Aya spun round, half falling to ground as he did so. He ended up staring at a concrete wall. He didn't look back at the other two.

"Youji?"

"Yes?"

"I am going to kill you."

"Oh right. And what would this be with?" Aya pushed himself off the ground, one arm reaching behind him to grasp his katana.

"That stick?" Youji continued teasing Aya, knowing he was safe.

"Stick? STICK? This is not a - " Aya looked at his right hand. He was, in fact, holding a stick of dead wood. He looked up. Youji was grinning wide enough to be the Cheshire cat. He was holding out his hands, the katana in one, and his own wire in the other.

"You're going to kill me with a stick?"

"Watch me." Aya sprung forward, landing an inch away from Youji. He froze, waiting to see Youji defend himself. Of course, being the cocky jerk he was, he didn't. Fine, Aya thought, we'll do this my way. He cracked the stick over the back Youji's neck. Youji didn't move. Again, Aya attacked. Again, Youji didn't move as the stick smacked across his back. He flung his arms out in desperation.

"Youji! Please! At least fight back, I can't kill an undefended person - "He stopped, interrupted for the second time in so many minutes. He felt the tug on his upper arms and wrists. He tried to move, but the fine wires were taught, held fast in Youji's grip. Youji flicked his wrist, and Aya's leg moved forward, throwing him off balance "Youji! YOUJI! I am ordering you to stop!!" Youji was moving him like a puppet, tugging on the wires to jerk him limbs along. It was unnerving for Aya, he was always in control of himself, and now he was helpless. He let himself be moved around, waiting to see what Youji would do. Aya was now right at the edge of the roof, his heels clicking on the metal tiles. It began to rain.  
  
Youji was getting annoyed with Aya. He was just trying to lighten the load a bit on the mission, wasn't he? And it's not like he had never fought Aya. Just this time, he didn't feel like losing.  
Aya's hair was beginning to turn a chestnut brown with the rain. The fringe that insistently stayed in his eyes was plastered to his forehead. The violet eyes weren't burning, as they should do, they usually bore into your head, like Aya was staring at a point about six inches in from your face. Like he was trying to see what you were feeling and thinking. Something was up with Aya, and pulling him around on wires wasn't going to help. He waited till Aya seemed to be steady, and then slowly took off the wires, one by one. Aya stood still, not blinking, his amethyst eyes still fixed on Youji's face.

"You okay? Aya?" Okay. This is the bit in the cheesy movie that I run towards him thinking he's dead. He wasn't right, he hadn't seen him like this before, and it was weird. As in scary weird. And he didn't freak that easy. Ever since he joined Weiss Aya had taken control. Just like that. And Youji wasn't exactly the type to do that kind of thing. The King of Glaciers had strolled in, and taken team leader. But he wasn't looking too icy right now, more like drunk on the verge of going into a coma. The wind caught Aya's jacket and billowed out behind him, like a giant sail. Aya gently spun round on his heels, and fell backwards off the tiles.

Ken had seen the puppet show, but had tired of it long before it ended. He had listened to the silence, and waited. He turned, and saw a silhouette fall back and disappear.

"AYAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" he felt pointless yelling it. What could he do, except pick up the pieces?

Youji was at the edge of the roof milliseconds after Aya fell. He could still see Aya's crimson hair whipping around his violet eyes, still staring passively at Youji's screaming face. Spinning out his wires, Youji flung his arms down and round, the glinting threads speeding faster than Aya. He pulled hands up sharply, catching Aya in a glowing net of silver, stained with blood.  
  
He strained at the wires, taking Aya's weight. The strands cut into his hands, they were weapons after all. He slowly brought Aya up, with Ken panicking round his elbows.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod, he's dead isn't he oh my god he's dead" Ken strung his words together, nearly passing out when he saw Aya's face, eyes half open and rolled back. Youji hauled him up the last few feet then laid him on his back. Aya's back was shredded. But it was less damage that would have been caused by hitting the concrete ground from fifty feet.

"Tell Omi that we've failed, and we're going." He saw Ken's face. "Now." He picked Aya up and headed down the fire escape, towards his car. He would get the target later. "And we're not going to the emergency ward."

Youji waited by the car till Omi and Ken arrived.

"What the f - " Omi goggled at his leader in Youji's arms.

"Don't start. Get in the car, and let's go." Youji glared. He might be immature, but he'd grown up fast. "Omi. Drive."

"I can't, can't get a license yet."

"Fine. Ken, you do it." This was stranger than seeing Aya half dead. You just did not touch Youji's, hair, wire or car. And he was telling ken to drive it. "Omi, you're in front." Youji levered the door open with his knee, and sat down, moving Aya's legs to make him fit in the back.  
  
Within fifteen minutes and 40 miles of freeway, they arrived back at the flower shop, and everyone unloaded, Omi opening the car door for Youji, who had picked Aya up again. Ken ran up to the shop door, and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, searching for the keys.

"Who's got the keys?? I can't find the keys! Were are they?" He was getting nervy again, winding himself up.

"Aya usually has a copy, I'll check his pockets." Omi dove into Aya's coat, searching in the hip pockets. He took out his hand, with keys in tow, drenched in blood. He went pale staring at his fingers.

"Get the door open. He's bleeding to death." Youji showed no emotion as he stated the obvious. Omi didn't move, he eyes still fast on the red on his hand. Youji strode up to the door, and lashed out with his foot, shattering the thin glass pane. He stepped through, careful not to let the broken edges touch Aya, but cut his upper arms and shoulders as he ducked through. Omi and Ken stood watching Youji retreat into the darkness at the back of the shop among the lilies.  
Youji kicked a door open, the wood splintering around the lock, and he stepped into a hallway, and turned left, down a few more stairs, and opened the door to Aya's room. He didn't think much; he left Aya lying on his own bed, and then ran back to his room. He snatched the sheets off it, and ran back, head down, white cotton clutched to his chest.

Omi and Ken followed Youji about 10 metres behind, silently striding along the corridor, with brief glances at each other, trying to not believe that Aya could die. They walked in on Youji tearing up sheets.

"Someone get his jacket off." Youji didn't look round. It was an uncanny trait of his, he always knew if he was alone in a room or not. Ken edged over to the side of the bed, avoiding Youji's flailing arms, while Omi flicked the light on.

Omi turned and saw the spreading colour around Aya's torso.

"JESUS CHRIST!" For a second time, he realised just how close Aya was to dying, the crimson seeping onto the bed like a blooming rose. However, in his speech, he wasn't being quite so poetical. "How the fuck did that happen...nyuh" Omi slumped back against the magnolia wall, and fainted in a heap, the stress too much for the seventeen year old. Ken and Youji didn't notice. Aya was stripped to the waist, the red slashes from the wire blazed across his back. Ken dragged out the standard first aid kit from under Aya's bed, and opened it. Everything was perfect, nothing had been used at all, not even the plasters. He pulled out the antiseptic spray, and sprayed a few of the makeshift bandages Youji was furiously producing. Ken lifted Aya up, trying not to touch the wounds. Youji leaned close to Aya and put arms around his back, passing the strips of cotton back and forth, binding up the wounds that were still bleeding.

Go to Chapter 2! GO gogogogogogogogogo! But review please!


	2. Red Rose Rising Chapter 2

Disclaimer I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of it's members sniff , they are only on rent!

Youji worked silently, not letting Ken see his hands for more than a few seconds, because he knew that Ken would have a nerve attack, seeing Aya on the brink of death, and Youji's hands sliced up, and Ken wouldn't let him fix up Aya until his hands were sewn up. Guilt rattled through his mind, he let Aya fall, he made Aya fall it was him him him, he made all this happen, and he couldn't make it right, ever...

"Ken... can you get some food...." He spoke in a whisper, all his energy gone from him in a few seconds. Ken looked up from the bed, seeing Youji crouched up with his hands behind his back. He'd never seen Youji like this; the usually cocky guy he was didn't crouch up, or whisper.

"Yeah, sure..." Ken didn't know what was going on, but he knew that Youji wanted him out the room. He left, with a doubtful look at Omi, still out on the floor.

Aya was sleeping, or as close to sleeping as a coma was, Youji sitting a vigil by his side, occasionally, leaning forwards, trying to take the pulse, but he never could, he always sat back just before he touched Aya's skin, just incase he spread more wounds where his hands touched.

Ken still hadn't seen his hands, and Youji didn't intend to let him. He needed some food. Or at least a coffee... He wanted to trail downstairs; go into the kitchen and get coffee beans and eat them. He couldn't drag himself away from the silent Aya on the bed, whenever he tried to stand up, Aya always seemed to move slightly, or moan a little, and he sat back down sharply. He stood up and ran out the room, leaving the door flapping behind him, nearly collapsing in the hallway, shocked at what he'd done. He dragged himself along by the walls and door handles, till he reached the kitchen door. Ken was in the shop, and Omi still out cold on the floor back in Aya's room. Youji was hoping to get in and out without being seen, and not die under a barrage of the third degree.

He crept round the cupboards, searching for his coffee tin, somewhere, somewhere, why could he never find things when he needed them? Because your life's a mess, just like you. Shut up shut up! Why talk to himself? Not like it was going to help... Not even out loud. He sighed, having resigned the fruitless search for the coffee tin. He leapt up the stairs, three at a time, hitting off tables and banisters, trying to get back to Aya in the shortest time possible...

Three weeks later, Aya was walking a little, even glancing at people, and attempting to talk. He didn't know why he was wrapped like an extra from 'The Mummy' or who made his back into shreds, and he didn't particularly care.

Youji opened his door and walked in, flicking it shut with his heel while trying to eat his chow mein one handed. He only stopped, sauce dribbling down his chin when he saw Aya sitting on the end of his bed, arms loosely crossed, looking dolefully at Youji.

"Whyatthmmm????" he said, his mouth full of the food. He swallowed.

"What do you want?" He asked again, stunned that Aya had made it to the other side of the building, to his room. He looked closer into Aya's face, and saw the strange, half drunk look he saw before on the roof of the estate park.

"You..." Aya whispered, before letting his arms fall, and the crimson stain on his black shirt fall into Youji's view. He fell backwards onto the satin sheets, his eyes still open. The world seemed devoid of colours to Youji, all black and white, monotone, except for the blazing red of the blood and the muted violet of Aya's eyes. Youji dropped his take-away and ran the few feet to Aya, although it seemed miles, and he was crying harder than he had ever before in his life. He pulled back the tails of Aya's shirt, and watched in horror at the deep gash in his side, a wound torn open again, too deep, far too deep to let him live. The red of his vital organs bleeding out into Youji's hands brought him back. He grabbed Aya round his shoulders and pulled him up off the already soaked bed, clutching him to his chest, his own sobs filling the room.

"You..." Aya whispered again, right next to Youji's ear, and so clear it sounded as if he had spoken out. "I want you..." Again, Aya spoke, his voice fading into Youji's sobs. Aya gently turned in Youji's arms; his shirtfront wet with blood, and kissed him. By now Youji stopped crying, gently woken from his grieving by the contact, and again, as he fell quiet and stared, Aya kissed him, deeper this time, and Youji responded, not knowing why or how, but only that he wanted it too. As they parted lips, Aya shuddered, Youji feeling his own heart shudder too, and Aya lay still in the arms of his saviour.

Okay! I know several people out there hate me now! But hark! This tale of death and love is not over yet! You choose what you read next! If you choose Chapter 3, Aya is dead, and Youji grieving, but if you choose Chapter 3b, you get happily-ever-after ending...it'll just take a while..

But beware! Not all is as it seems...

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Red Rose Rising Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Weiss Kreuz, or it's members, or their uber- kewl ideas. I'M SORRY!!! I KNOW IT'S SHORT!!! weep weep   
  
Spin Blade 3  
  
Youji laid Aya down on his bed, and tried to step back. His knees gave way, and he fell backwards, trembling against the cold of the magnolia painted wall. He shoved himself off the wall, and clung to the doorframe. He half-fell, and half-stepped out of his room, leaving the copper tang of blood behind him. He hit the opposite wall hands first, then tentatively stepping across the hallway, and heading down the corridor towards the stairs which lead to the backroom in the flower shop.  
  
Ken and Omi were both working, one wrapping a bouquet of stargazer lilies with professional expertise, the other racking the price up on the till.  
  
"Thank you! Please come again!" Omi called after the departing man, carrying his lilies like a weapon. He's probably off to make up with his girlfriend. Wonder what he's done... He drifted off into daydreams. Ken was humming gently to himself, while he watered the pots on the shelves. Both jumped several feet when a thunderous crash rang out from the back room.  
  
"What the bejesus was that??!!" Ken had already opened the door into the storeroom when Omi had got out from behind the counter.  
  
"Oh my god... YOUJI!!!" He was lying at the bottom of the stairs, face down. Ken was kneeling by the head of the brunette, using his strong hands to feel Youji's ribs, checking for internal injuries, thankfully finding none. Omi was kneeling on the third stair up, shifting his hands under Youji's legs, trying not to look at the crazy angle one was set at.  
  
"It's broken, I'm pretty sure..." Omi tailed off, having caught sight of a small patch of blood on his hand. "Turn him over, look." Omi held up his hand. Ken paled slightly, and then taking Youji's shoulders, gently rolled him over.  
  
"Holy crap!" Omi shouted, hands slapping out to find support in the narrow walls. The bottom left of Youji's denim jacket was soaked in blood. Ken loosened it off at the shoulders, and ripped open the green t-shirt beneath. Youji's chest was bare, perfectly formed and not at all wounded.  
  
"So how..." Midway through sentence, Omi's brain realised the obvious. He went paler than Ken.  
  
"Shit."Ken stood up, unsure of his balance. He steadided himself, and lept up th stairs, taking three in every stride. Omi twisted round and followed Ken's bounding figure with horror. He looked back down at Youji's peaceful, but bloody face.  
  
"Shit, Kudou. What have you done?"  
  
Omi delved into Youji's pockets, and fished out a cell phone.  
  
beep-beep   
  
"Hello this is emergency services, do you require police, ambulance, coastguard or fire service?"  
  
"Ambulance please." Omi knew how weak his voice must sound to the operator.  
  
beep-beep   
  
"This is emergency ambulance service, how can we help?"  
  
"There's two men, one's leg is broken I think, and the other is bleeding really badly." Forcing out this information to a bored-sounding operator threatened to make Omi burst into tears. The closest people he had to a family were disappearing...  
  
"Where are you calling from?" And all he'd have left was blood on his hands...  
  
"Errr...you know the flower shop called 'Kitten in the House' ?" He had a mental blank, he couldn't even remember the street where he lived...  
  
"Yes, an ambulance is being sent immediately. While you wait however, we advise that you keep both men warm, and try to stem any bloodflow."  
  
"Yes... thank you..." He hung up. He took a deep breath, and went after Ken.  
  
Less than a week later, seven sombre black-clad figures surrounded the top of a small grassy hill, while six carriers lowered a coffin into the ground.  
  
Aya had died before the ambulance arrived, and was pronouced dead soon after. Youji had been taken into hospital, and his broken leg pinned and cast. He was restrained in a wheelchair for the next month. Ken stood by Omi, his dark chesnut hair swaying gently, his face turned down. Omi was crying, salty tears washing down his cheeks from cornflower eyes. Manx and Birman were wearing identical black suits, but Manx's flame red hair was tied up into a small black pillbox, the veil covering her frail cheekbones. Persia stood slightly detached from the group, tinted sunglasses covering his eyes, his nondescript suit and tie crisp.  
  
The priest closed his prayer book, and shut his eyes briefly. He didn't know any of the congregation present, he had been approached by a 'John Smith' who had requested a funeral, as soon as possible. He walked from the open grave leaving the family to grieve.  
  
Youji sat, silent and unmoving in his restrictive chair. He had one thought running round and round in his head. Aya had wanted him. Loved him. For a few seconds before he died, he had loved him back. And now he was dead, dead by his hand, killed in the act of salvation, he had killed him... Somewhere far away inside,Youji screamed, and something burst.  
  
Ken and Omi had turned away and taken a few steps before Youji began to cry. He gulped for air, finding it hard to breathe, his chest was constricted by a havy weight. He bent forwards, trying to relieve the pain in his lungs. The wheelchair, with brakes locked, rocked gently with Youji's sobs, until he doubled over. The chair, with it's cargo too far to one side, tipped over and Youji was thrown roughly onto his knees. His reflexes would normally have brought his legs up so he would and in a crouch, but with his leg in a stiff cast, could only throw out his hands. He was sitting at the edge of Aya's grave, his hands extended downwards. An intense burst of dejà-vous slammed into him.  
  
I'm. At the top of the. Estate park again. My wires. Cutting into. My hands Aya. Falling away. Too fast to save. Too fast. Too beautiful. To die. I can't let. This happen. Not now. I love you. I love. You.  
  
Youji snapped back into reality. He felt like he knew all along, he always had. He'd loved Aya, even though the image of that beautiful pale angel had been shattered the moment he'd open his lips, he'd loved him. For his detachment to violence he doled out to the anonymous targets, for the pursuit for revenge, for the hidden, more fiery passion he'd found at the end. And he'd lost Aya because he'd tried to save him...  
  
He lifted his arms up, and crossed them over his chest, as he'd done every night in the hospital, trying to hold the image of Aya in his arms again, and hold it next to his heart. But every morning he woke again, crying as his dreams deserted his mind, leaving him in a land where everything was sterile and bleached white compared to the twin hypnotic points of pure violet. His jade eyes snapped open, then flickered shut again, not able to bear the sight of the mahogany box that kept his love away from him. He couldn't stand up anymore to the world without his icy marble angel. He felt the earth tilt and roll, and he fell forwards into the grave, and hit the bottom, salt tears rolling down from fields of green.  
  
A little bit of suspense is necessary, methinks...

Youji woke the second he hit the carpeted floor of his bedroom. He kicked the satin sheets off where they had wound round his ankles, and looked back up to the head of the bed. He was startled to find that his heartbeat had slowed up once he saw the sleeping form of Aya, the red hair spread out on the pillow. Jesus, he'd taken the dream... dream? Nightmare. ...seriously. That thought scared him beyond belief. He'd been so terrified that he could never hold Aya again... He shivered, half in cold, half in trying to dispel the thought from his head. He hauled himself up, and sat up in the bed. Hmmm. He needed some breakfast, but couldn't go down without showering, shaving ecetra. He knew he was too vain for his own good. Ah well, he'd have to go with what was in his room. He leaned across to his bedside table, and picked up the half-eaten cold chow mein from last night. As he ate, he watched Aya's face as he slept, calm and free of frown lines. He finished the foil carton, and twisted round to find the bin. Damn. It was at the other side of the room. He sung his legs oer the edge of the bed, loathe to leave the warmth of the sheets. Just as he was about to stand up, an arm wound around his slim waist and pulled him back. His smile was brief as a forceful tongue parted his lips. Youji let it in, and just before he began to participate, the mouth drew back.  
"Mmmmm. You taste good, Kudou." Youji saw the slight smile creep across Aya's lips. "Come here ..."  
  
Awwww! Donncha just love 'em???!! RR much appreceiated muchly, click the linky thingy below points   
  
However, if you feel cheated, and want another ending, merely re-read chapters 1 2, but skip to chapter 4! ( Where Youji is facing his fear, Omi and Ken are both completely stupified, and I die of cramp! Thank you! )  
  
PS: Has anyone here heard of 'The Great Omi', the world's most tatooed man? Apparently that's who Omi's named after! 


	4. Red Rose Rising Chapter 3b

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz, nor any of their plots or characters (sadly) they are just on rent, and I'm not making **any** money. Please RR!!

WARNING!! Do not read any further if you are carrying on from Chapter 3!!!It will make no sense what so ever. Please go back and read Chapters 1 2, then come back here.

Red Rose Rising : Chapter 3b

Youji looked at Aya's limp form. He pressed two fingers against Aya's white throat. He could feel a feeble heart beat, so he wasn't dead, but Aya was close. He stripped off his denim jacket and t-shirt, and pressed the thinner material against the open wound in Aya's right side. Youji had a naturally loud voice, so he had no doubt that he would be heard.

"KEN! OMI! CALL AN AMBULANCE! NOW!" He heard a faint reply, then a voice – he thought it was Omi – on the telephone. He folded the jacket up, and tied the sleeves tight around Aya's torso, a makeshift bandage that wouldn't hold up long, but paramedics would be here soon, it'd just have to do. Youji could hear someone leaping up the stairs, and suddenly self-conscious, made a futile attempt to wipe away the tears staining his face.

"IN HERE," He yelled again, then as he repeated himself, Youji realised how bad it would look. He was half-naked, crying over a heavily bleeding man, lying on his bed. He had no idea what the others would think, but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell them what really happened, at least, not all of it.

Ken appeared at the open doorway, and gawped at the scene laid out. Youji saw the questions coming, and cut them off.

"When's the ambulance gonna be here?"

"In a few minutes. What happened?"

"Good. When I came in he was sitting on the end of my bed, then when I asked what he wanted he fell backwards, then I saw he was bleeding." Youji looked back at Aya's face, even paler then it usually was.

Ken was staring too; he was trying to work out why Aya looked so calm, unless he wanted this... No, he'd never let himself die, not until Taketori was dead... So why was he so... happy? He was interrupted from his cycle of thoughts by the wee-woo of a siren drawing closer. He looked back at Youji, who was silently crying.

"Hey, Youji?" Ken touched his shoulder, the skin cold "you should get a coat on, you'll freeze." Youji turned at this contact, his jade eyes strangely dead, but still brimming with tears. He nodded, and his manner reminded Ken of a child, yes, a lost child.

Youji unfolded, his eyes turned downwards. He walked over to the door, and pulled a coat off the hook indiscriminately. He was about to put it on, then he noticed what one he'd chosen. It was about calf-length, a matt navy with two white stripes forming a cross on the arms. His eyes focused on it, and widened in horror. Every time he wore this coat, someone died. He flung it across the room, suddenly angry at the apparent omen, and picked another coat off the ground, and slipped it over his shoulders.

Less than two minutes later, Aya's face was covered by an oxygen mask, and what seemed like miles of white gauze were being wound round his waist. Youji had insisted he went in the ambulance with Aya, and Ken and Omi had said that they'd follow them in his car. He could see the dark world outside through the back-windows; the sidewalks were being dusted with tiny flakes of pure white snow, the first fall of the year. He heard a vague murmur of a voice, and turned round.

"Sorry, what?" He was slightly disorientated, and squeezed his eyes shut then opened then again, trying to clear his head.

"Your hand's bleeding, you need a dressing on it." The young paramedic reached out and took hold of is wrist, and examined Youji's hand. "It's just a small cut, but where did you get all these scars?" She had begun to wrap more gauze around his palm where his nails had dug into his hand, but her eyes were on the white lines that criss-crossed his fingers.

"I'm a florist," he smiled weakly "Thorns can be sharp." Silently, he added to himself, 'Yeah, so is wire.' He watched passively as she finished the bandage.

"Can you still move it?" she asked. Youji flexed his hand, and found he could.

"Yeah, thanks." Everything swayed to the right as the ambulance swung round into the A E entrance. A second paramedic opened the doors, and jumped down onto the tarmac below. Everyone started yelling, demanding drips and forms, and information about Aya's condition. Youji stepped down, and followed the metal hospital bed. He ran ahead, elbowing open doors, and moving people out the way. Eventually the group of doctors came to a set of dark blue doors, and someone grabbed Youji's arm and held him back as the gurney went in.

"Sir? You can't go in there, members of the public aren't allowed in operating theatre. Turn left at the end of this corridor, and there's a waiting room, we'll keep you informed, what's your name?"

"Kudou Youji. What are they doing in there?" Youji looked through the small circular windows. He couldn't see Aya, but by the amount of equipment that was being wheeled in, all he didn't know the purpose of, it looked scarily morbid.

"He needs a blood transfusion, and his essential organs need to be sewn up. Please, Sir, the waiting room?" The doctor laid his hand on Youji's shoulder, and pushed him towards the direction of the waiting room. He took the hint and started to walk down the sterile white corridor, feeling completely numb...

I'm novacaine I'm numb and nothing's real

Like the coldest winter you are frozen from me

Pink Numb

Ken and Omi were already waiting room when the double doors leading in from the corridors swung open and Youji strode in. Everyone turned round as the edges of the doors slammed into the walls on either side. Omi caught himself in the middle of a train of thought, and stared at his teammate, bare chest showing through his open coat and fists clenching so hard they were white. Youji's blazing green eyes fixed on a row of empty seats, and he flung himself down in one. In an instant all the usual control of his muscles failed him, and he slackened, like a puppet whose strings have just been cut, and wept. Omi walked over quietly, and sat in the empty seat on Youji's left. He couldn't think of anything to say, although he could usually offer comfort in any kind of situation, in the face of the floods of tears he was dumbstruck.

After a few strained minutes Ken came over from the desk after providing the receptionist with their contact details. He tactfully chose the free seat next to Omi, throwing occasional worried glances at Youji, who had stopped crying, but was staring forlornly a pot plant opposite him. After another half-hour of silence, Omi yawned.

" Hyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh! (Author's Note: Yes, that was a yawn!) I'm off to find a coffee machine. Either of you want one while I'm up?" He waved a hand in front of Youji's face "You want a coffee?" He shook his head, and went back to staring at the plant. "Ken? You?"

"Yeah, I'll have one. Decaf if there is."

"I don't know how you cope without caffeine." Omi actually went for decaf too, but he was trying to start a conversation. When it was clear it wasn't going to work, he set off in search for a vending machine.

After several hundred metres of corridor, he found one. It was cheap, and most likely tasted awful, but it was better than nothing. He dug in his pockets for change, not surprisingly, he couldn't find any.

"Here." Omi turned round to see Youji standing with several yen lying in his palm. "Get me one too, preferably with extra caffeine."

"Sure." Omi put in the money and pressed the selection buttons. He performed the usual circus with the paper cups, nearly burning himself when the boiling coffee splashed down. (Author's Note: See? If a computer genius can't work them, who can? They can be weapons of mass annoyance!) He handed one to Youji, and turned back to the machine, and poured out Ken's decaf and his. He turned, doing the strange half-dance that everyone does when confronted with too hot coffee in both hands.

"Hold them a second," He passed both over to Youji while he dug in his pockets again. He came up with a pair of fingerless gloves, and put on one on. "Protection." He grinned sheepishly, took his coffee and promptly burned his tongue on it.

"Drink it over fast, then you don't taste it so much. First rule of the caffeine addict." Youji demonstrated, downing his coffee in one go. He crushed the cup in one hand, and then artfully threw it in a passing bin. Omi shook his head; Kudou Youji was a multi-talented man.

They turned the corner into the waiting room, to see Ken at the receptionist's desk, waving his arms and trying to make a point. Omi rolled his eyes. Subtlety had never been Ken's strong point. As they came closer, they could hear their conversation:

"Look, he came in about half an hour ago, heavy bleeding, I'm on his contact details."

"I'm sorry sir, but the only Fujimiya Aya we have registered is **female** and has been checked in for several years..."

"Well, can you do a search on Fujimiya then?" As he saw Omi and Youji coming over, he pulled a face, and told them what was happening.

"Okay, listen to this: They haven't got Aya on their files, apparently he's a girl and has been checked in for years! Is that mine? Thanks." Ken took the paper cup and took a swig. "Eeeewww. They probably have a 'Poisoned by Hospital Coffee Ward'..."

The receptionist hit a few keys on the keyboard, and turned back round to Ken.

"Sir? We have two patients under the name 'Fujimiya', one of whom matches the description you gave, but I'm afraid you have the name wrong. Your friend is registered under Ran, as first name, you must have him confused with his sister." The effect was instantaneous. Ken choked on his coffee, Omi thumped him on the back, while he stared at Youji, and Youji stared at the receptionist. He looked back at the other two.

"Neither of you ever heard him mention a sister?" He looked back at the receptionist, "Can I see his profile on that thing?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid you can't see what he was checked in for, or the treatment he received." She handed over an A4 printout "Here you are. You need to sign here." Youji signed in his scrawl while staring at the paper. He started to walk away from the desk, Ken and Omi trying to read as well. They stopped and read for a few minutes.

"My God. It is him. Address, age, description." Omi was the first to speak. He ran his eyes over the dates 'Ran' had checked in. "Yeah, it is him, no wonder he insisted he came on his own all the time. Bloody hell, he first checked in at age 17. What was that for?"

"Excuse me, are you relatives of Fujimiya Ran?" The three of them turned round, to see a young nurse in hospital uniform. Normally, Youji would have assessed her for a potential date, but just now she was just a woman. Again, Omi was the first to speak.

"Yes, we came in with him." They stared expectantly at her.

"The surgery was fine, but I'm afraid there's been a problem. Please come with me."

The nurse lead them to a small recovery room with three beds in it, one empty, one occupied by a balding pensioner, and the last held Ran, surrounded by monitors and an oxygen machine. He was scarily paler than before, his perfect skin matching the starched blankets that covered him. An aluminium stand stood beside the bed holding a saline drip, and a nearly empty bag of rich red blood. A doctor approached the trio, the nurse having disappeared from sight. He motioned them to come over to the bedside.

"Your friend has come through the surgery well, but he has a very rare blood type. We only have one more bag of it, then he's on his own. This normally, would be fine, but due to his chronic anaemia, is dangerous. He'll almost certainly pull through, but there is a risk of a shortage of oxygen in his brain." The doctor seemed apologetic, as though it was his personal fault that this had happened. Omi clung to Ken, who had wrapped an arm around him. Youji, however, seemed to be running a drastic thought process. He was.

"What blood type is he?" He asked, his voice loaded in intent.

"A recess negative, but I'm afraid you can't donate blood..."

"Good. Same as me."

"Sir, you can **not** donate blood, it needs to pass through several health checks before it can be transferred to the patient."

"I'm healthy! I've never done any drugs, or had anything to drink for about a week, I'm not anaemic, what else do you need?" He threw out his arms, exasperated by the refusal. Ken broke in at this point.

"Youji, Ay...Ran will be fine. He's strong, and doesn't give up. We can't stay here, we can go back and wait."

"Wait there then, I'm going to stay here." As he spoke, he drew up a chair and sat down, his glare softening as he watched Ran in his drug-induced sleep of oblivion.

Ken and Omi exited the room and began walking down the hallway, arms still wrapped round each other.

"Ken, you don't think he'll do something stupid, do you?"

"Of course he won't. He knows it's not safe." Ken turned and planted a kiss on Omi's forehead. Omi smiled, and leaned his head on Ken's shoulder.

Youji waited until the doctor was examining the balding man's chart, before quietly leaving. That was the easy bit, now he had to find a storage room before he was missed. He turned right, going the opposite way from Ken and Omi, scanning the door signs for 'Private'. After about 50 metres, he saw one, brought to his attention by a medical student sliding out from behind the door. He waited a few minutes, pretending to read a health and safety notice, then went in. Row upon row of aluminium shelving towered over Youji's head. He took a deep breath, and began searching. After a panic-stricken few minutes, he looked in cupboards under the steel sink, and found what he was searching for. A semi-translucent plastic bag with an attached tube and needle. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket and hurried out of the storage room, and began to run down the hallway, scattering people left and right.

He carried on running till he saw a newsagents, and had an idea. He strolled in and bought a cheap car magazine, and came out carrying it in a plastic bag. He strolled back down the corridor, his muscles screaming at him to run, but he knew that he'd run straight past Omi and Ken, and they'd stop him. Youji eventually found the nearest toilets, and pushed the white swing door open. He was confronted by a row of cubicle doors on his left, and a row of sinks on the right. He turned into the last cubicle, and locked the door, his heart thumping in his chest as though it might burst.

He took the blood bag out of his pocket and looked at it, not letting his eyes trail down to the needle at the end of the long tube. He hooked the top of the bag over the coat hook on the back of the door. He unlaced one of his boots and tied a slipknot in one end. Youji pushed the other end through it, and put his arm through the loop. He held it secure with his right hand, and jerked the other end away, creating a block in his veins. He transferred the loose end to his mouth where he held it tight, his vein beginning to swell up. He fished in his pockets to find his lighter, and lit it as he re-sterilised the needle. He laid the blood bag on top of his coat, on the toilet seat. He let the string drop from in-between his teeth, and pushed the sharp needle into his arm. He hissed between his teeth and shut his eyes tight, painful memories invading his body, just like the needle.

_Suddenly, he was a five year old again, sitting in a doctor's chair waiting to receive his first injection. His mother sat beside him, her hands neatly folded in her lap. The doctor, fat and sweating leaned over a metal tray, preparing the needle. As he turned round, the doctor leered at him. Youji suddenly went cold with fear. This evil man, later to be one of Weiss' targets, was about to force an unknown substance into him...it could be anything...water...air...poison. He threw himself out of the chair, and ran out of the clinic. He got halfway down the road before his mother caught up with him. He was sobbing, yearning for his mother to wrap him in her arms, and protect him from the doctor and the shiny silver needle. Youji never forgave her for what she did next. She roughly grabbed his hand in an iron grip, and dragged him back into the doctor's surgery, where two nurses held him down as he received the vaccine. _

the blood bag was half-full

_His life suddenly speeded up, working as a private detective for a woman who wanted to know if her husband was visiting a nearby brothel. Youji posed as a customer, and found out that not only did the man visit, he owned the place. After he had obtained the necessary evidence of his visits, he returned to the housewife. She was naturally upset, but she paid for his services, and he left the house, just in time to see a non-descript black car pull up in the driveway. He carried on walking, although he was slightly suspicious, the suit in the car didn't look like her husband. He got into his own car, and pretended to read a map, while he watched the man get out of the car, and knock on the house door. The woman answered, and he forced his way in, despite her obvious protests. The door was shut behind him. Less than a minute later, he saw the wife again through the window, her mouth open in a voiceless scream, blood pouring from her hairline... He'd rushed in, and throttled the assailant from behind. He released him, and stared stunned as he slide to the floor, as crumpled as a rag doll. That was the first man he'd ever killed. He left the house and drove back to his flat. Two days later he had received a phone call, which requested his presence at the same brothel. He knew what requested meant. _

_He wound his way through the whores clinging to him and headed for the door marked 'Manager'. However two security guards stepped in front of him, and took him to 'the manager'. As soon as they were through the doorway and alone, one grabbed his right arm and pushed up the sleeve of the jacket he had been wearing. Youji had screamed when the other guard had produced a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and struggled even harder. No use, they were stronger than him, and were practised at this. He let out a keening cry as the needle pierced his skin, and everything went dark. He couldn't move or speak, just watch passively as he was beat up. After hours of abuse, he was dumped in an alley, blood flowing from every part of his body, flowing down the gutter drains._

His eyes flew open, and he withdrew the needle from his arm, shaking. He had to try to put the clip on the full bag several times before he managed it, feeling as helpless as he had been when he was drugged. He slid down the wall, crying gently to himself.

After a few minutes, he stood up, and awkwardly handling the plastic container of blood, scared by its warmth, slid it into the newsagents bag. He carefully pushed his arm through the sleeve of his jacket, and swung the other arm in. He left the cubicle, and inspected himself in the mirror. He had deep black circles beneath his eyes thrown into sharp prominence by the pallor under his light tan. He left the toilets, searching for the cupboard he had taken the plastic bag from.

Youji eventually found it again, his pace slower than before. He found a pen, and wrote a hasty note stating the blood type and that it was for recovery room 6. He came out of the storage area, and made his way back to the waiting area slowly, each step away from Ran a huge effort of both body and mind.

Several hours later, Ken, Omi and Youji went to visit Ran again. He had shifted position slightly, his face now turned towards the door. The three of them stepped in, trying to be as quiet as possible. Youji pulled up 3 chairs, stiff backed and uncomfortable, wincing slightly when he twisted his left arm. He took the chair closest to the head of the bed. He couldn't keep his viridian eyes off Ran, the pure peace on his face replacing the usual frown.

Youji knew that he was responsible for all this, he had saved Ran from certain death, then cast him straight back into its freezing clutches. Death... lying down and succumbing to the forceful current that not only pulled at the flesh, but the mind as well. Youji had been terrified of death ever since his father had died, a shipping accident, his rowing boat dashed against rocks. (Author's Note: I have no idea if that happened or not, so forgive me if I'm wrong) Whenever on a mission, he wore water-resistant clothes that created a barrier between him and the red fountains of his victims. And he always took care to ensure that any injuries never left a scar that could remind him of any particular target. Yet he had insisted that his hands healed on their own, so that he would always recall when he had saved and sentenced with one stroke.

Omi stood up and left the room, unable to watch his friend lie unconscious and not do anything. Ken, unwilling to leave the distraught 17 years old on his own, swiftly followed him. Youji didn't register his companion's departure until a nurse came past him to replace the empty bag of blood with his hasty donation. He smiled briefly to himself, and carried on watching. He was now inside Ran, his iron-rich blood sweeping through the veins, creating a blood-bond he intended never to break.

The nurse went back a few hours later to remove the handsome visitor, as visiting hours were over, but she let him stay, he was so immersed in a peace deeper then sleep. The next day came, and the brunette left the bedside, only to return a few hours later, fully clothed and clean-shaven to continue his vigil. She continued tending the patient, wondering why this man showed so much love.

This ritual continued every day, for two weeks, regular as clockwork. However, as soon as Youji left, another man came in to watch Fujimiya Ran, a man with a shock of ginger hair, and emerald eyes that gleamed like a snake's.

"Hey! Crawly-Chan!" Schuldich beamed in amusement at the annoyance in Brad Crawford's face, the flickering light from his laptop reflecting off his glasses. "Aw, come on! You know I'm just being me! Whatcha doing? Checking **more** weather reports?"

"Wrong. Volcano eruption patterns. I've decided to set one off near where you were spawned." (Author's Note: Yes, I know this is a direct quote from the manga, but it's just too Crawford-y not to put in!)

"Whatever. Listen; you know Fujimiya Junior?" He saw the completely disinterested look that meant that Crawford was interested. Of course, it helped if you could read his mind. Schuldich continued: " He's getting better, and the damn playboy won't leave his side. What's his name?"

"Kudou Youji."

"Ah yes. Well, he's hung up on it, could be useful, na?"

"Maybe. Depends on what it is though. You need to find out, Schuldich. Quickly please." Having gained his superior's approval, Schuldich grinned.

"Your wish is my command, oh Crawly one!" He exited before Brad could reply. Right, Schuldich thought, time to buy some flowers.

Youji had returned to his apartments above the shop, to change and shave. He didn't think he could really take more time sitting next to the hospital bedside, even though he made it a penance for himself, a penance that could never be enough. He pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, and screwed up his eyes. It felt like something was squatting in his mind, pressurising his head. It was probably just a mixture of too little sleep and too much hospital coffee, and no cigarettes. Taking his hand away from his forehead, he trawled through his pockets for something to curb his craving. All he found was his wallet, a simple black leather affair with a simple metal clasp. He flipped it over, and gazed dolefully at the photo pushed under the clear plastic flap. It showed all four of Weiss, crammed into a photo booth, all grinning. Omi was at the bottom of the shot, his nose crinkled up as he laughed. Ken was to his left, his chestnut hair falling over his eyes. Youji was at the very top, his hair slicked back into a ponytail, his arm stretched out to the wall to stop him falling over. Aya was on Omi's right, smiling away with the rest of them. It was the only time Youji'd ever got him drunk, and that was only because he'd told the barman to put absinthe in Aya's cocktails. Aya hadn't spoken to for two weeks when he found out. Aya...

He sighed, and walked out into the sunlight on the small balcony. He rolled the name around in his mind, Aya...Aya... not Aya anymore, that was someone different, it was Ran now. He looked at the photo again before putting it back in his pocket. Maybe that's why he'd gone funny on the roof... he hadn't heard his name...Ran...Ran...Youji's mind replayed the fateful sequence, the arguing, the fall, the catch, that terrifying look in those pure violet eyes as Ran fell. He blinked, the pressure in his head suddenly gone. Now he was just too tired... He staggered back inside, his own weight making his knees weaken, and fell fully dressed onto his bed, asleep before he hit the sheets.

Finally! I wrote a long okay, longish chapter! Now, just continue following on to chapter 5! (When I write it!)

What will the angsty Youji do? Will he remain e'erwatchful over Ran? What shall the sneaky serpent Schuldich do? What will he do with the 'lucky boy'?

Read on to find out!

Please RR!!!


	5. Red Rose Rising Chapter 4

Red Rose Rising Chapter 4

WARNING: Don't read this if you've come here from Chapter 3! Chapter 3 has ended, and this is a continuation of Chapter 3b! If you want this to make sense (or some semblance of sense) choose Chapter 3b, and come back here.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, and I'm not making any money from this so don't sue me. You can't get blood out of a stone.

text shows personal thoughts.

Youji slept for three days solid, the sleep denied during his vigil finally overpowering him completely. Omi and Ken, at first terrified that he had fallen into a coma, took turns at watching him when they returned from the hospital wards.

Three days, 72 hours, 4320 minutes, 259200 seconds. Each of those seconds seemed to last a myriad years to the sleeping Youji. Bound up in his dreams, replaying the last week over and over again, till he refused to watch it again. It was thrown back at him, unrelenting, again and again, the motionless figure of Ran flickering, being replaced for a split second by a red-headed girl, bearing an uncanny resemble to Ran. The pale skin accentuated by the stark white surroundings...the shock of blazing red...If Youji had been awake, he would have known that this was the other Aya Fujimiya, the girl on the hospital files.

The tremors of pure terror flew through his dream-body once again, the fear that Ran would eventually flicker away, and leave the bed empty, the fear that all the crimson red blood in his veins wasn't enough to return the life that was so desperately needed, wanted. In the 259199th second, the last second of his unbelievably heavy sleep, the vision changed, pale skin shot open, giving way to the full burning circles of violet beneath, and Ran's mouth was open in a soundless scream.

Youji returned to the land of the awake as if he was a separate entity from his body, time warped itself around his personal re-birth into hell. As he opened his eyes, everything was slowed down, far too slow to be real. Then he caught a faint, shrill noise, sounding as if it was being heard through tinfoil, or played on a gramophone that was winding down. He began to wonder where it was coming from, then slowly he heard the next progression of sound, the next few waves, and he knew it was a scream, indefinitely postponed. The time spun on, making up for the stretched seconds, and he was snapped back into full consciousness, his mouth open in an agonising scream.

He shut his mouth. He didn't want to alarm Ken or Omi, and they certainly didn't need his dreams running round in their heads. He sat up, rubbing his temples with his palms, and then pulling at his hair, trying to wake his mind up some more. A twilight amber glow was lining the carpet before his feet, spilling in from the French windows that lead out to the balcony. Youji didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but he presumed it was longer than usual.

A few minutes later, he was softly padding down the hallway to the kitchen, barefooted and still wearing the same clothing he had fallen asleep in. Youji reached the permanently open doorway, and drew back quickly. Omi was leaning back in his chair, an empty mug hanging from one hand, eyes shut. Seeing the young blonde was asleep, Youji continued into the small room. The orange glow of streetlights outside threw cruel shadows across his sleeping countenance, his cheeks glowing amber, his eyes surrounded by sharp circles of black. For all the world, he might have looked twice as old as his seventeen years.

Poor kid. He's probably been trawling all the databases he can get his hands on, constantly checking medical records and the latest news.

Youji gently twisted the cup out of the frail fingers, and set it on the table. Omi was too deep in his personal sleep to pay any attention to his current surroundings, and only stirred slightly when Youji tucked his arms around Omi, and lifted him up. He was deceptively light.

Probably hasn't eaten for days either...

"Youji...?"

"Go back to sleep kid..."

"I'm not ... a kid..."

Not by much.

"Shhhh..." Youji carried Omi to his own bedroom. The door was unlocked, as per usual. Youji picked his way through the snakes of wire that were trailing across the floor, linking all manner of electronics and screens, and laid Omi on his small bed, and pulled the covers up over him. He left the apartment silently, clicking the door shut behind him.

Youji guessed Ken was asleep upstairs, and returned to the kitchen. He deftly filled the coffee maker with grindings and water, and winced at the hissing it produced. It seemed overloud, but the rest of the building was silent, and after a crashout of three days, it was probably just one of the inevitable results. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Youji drank the coffee straight out the jug, and pulled a wry face. The terrifying nausea of the dream swept over him again, and he clutched at the edge of the counter, sweat beading on his forehead, and tears welling in his eyes.

white...white object...floating...just out of reach...can't raise my hand...why can't I...where is this...space...

Youji was clinging onto the supporting unit for dear life. He had dropped the coffee jug when the dream had come, and it was lying shattered on the lino, and he had no intention of falling on it. He braced his arms against the cold granite edge, and pushed himself forwards, until his outstretched hands landed on the back of a chair. He took a step forwards, over the broken glass, and fell onto the nearest chair, and sat, shivering over the dream and the terrors it had brought, until the dawn of a new day brought the light back into a silent midnight world.

Schuldich gently laid his hand and palm over Crawford's forehead. Seconds later, he had pulled away.

"Interesting. You're really getting good at this kinda thing."

"Why, thank you Bradley. Fucking up minds is my line of work, remember?"

"Yeah, but not even your best work to date even **compares** with that." Schuldich pulled a face.

"I didn't even do much, ya know, I just opened a link that was already there."

"So one of them's..."

"Yep. Either that or some scary shit is gonna hit some muthafucking fan."

"Can't you go 2 sentences without swearing?" Bradley sighed, and laced his fingers together. Schuldich grinned.

"Nope."

Morning flowed into the kitchen, as did Ken, only less gracefully. He howled as he stepped on a shard of glass. He flung himself down onto a chair, and inspected his foot, which was now copiously spreading blood everywhere. Omi chose this moment to walk in, screwing up his eyes.

"Omi! Don't come any closer!"

"What, you have a deadly virus or something?" Omi was puzzled. He was better than first aid than Ken, for sure.

"Look down, genius." Omi curled his toes. He was about 10 centimetres away from being in the same condition as Ken. Omi yawned, and stepped over the glass. He pulled up a chair opposite his teammate and looked at the injured appendage. He then switched his attention to a small square of white paper lying on the table.

"Oh fuuuuuuu-ck." Omi stripped off his jacket and passed it to Ken. "Come on, we need to go after Youji. He's gone to the hospital. We can get you fixed up while we're there."

Youji had been driving for about ten minutes before he reached the hospital. He flung open the car door, and stuffed his wallet into his pocket before going inside. The reception was quiet, only a few people were sitting nursing cups of coffee, or sleeping. The corridors were similarly devoid of people, his footsteps echoing around the pristine walls, the white amplifying the sounds by magnitudes.

The double doors leading to the recovery room swung open gently under his touch, the darkness fleeing into corners behind units and beds. It was set out exactly like you'd expect a movie to be, sunlight coming in through the crystal clear panes of glass, shining directly onto the pale face of the patient, a single chair set out beside the bed.

Well, if it's expected of me, then I'll play my part, the tragic lover denied.

He sat down on the hard plastic chair. It was uncomfortable, he'd realised why long ago. The plastic digging into your legs and shoulders stopped you from falling asleep, where you may not notice a loved one slipping into the next world. That was the knife-edge that Ran stood on, moving even the slightest could mean deadly hurt, or sweet salvation. Could the doctors honestly say he'd come down safe?

He sat still for a few minutes, trying to delay another waking onslaught of the visions of the red-haired girl. But somehow, he knew that the dreams didn't come from him, they weren't his own thoughts... not his point of view... He'd often thought about being so badly injured that you went 'out' of you body, that your soul could leave your flesh behind. Maybe, that's where he is now...

Still white... white space... why can't I touch it? ... leave me here... no more pain now... no more blood... no more her... please, no...

Youji focused on the bed leg. He couldn't bring himself to look at Ran directly, as though it could re-awaken the dreams. An unspeakable anger rose up into his blood, the cleansing flood of pure rage flew through his system, pulling his pain up on unseen strings, then dropping him back down, seething in his own self-hatred.

Dreams? Just who showed him all that he had seen? The pain and rage and fear it provoked, who had such power over him that it could reduce him to such extremities? He needed an anchor, something to draw him back to a reality where everything made sense... nearly everything...

Wake up...Wake up... Pull me back down...Wake **up**...

With the last syllable of his thought, he ripped the photo out the back of his wallet, and pressed it hard into Ran's hand.

Wake up for us, for you and me, wake up

He held it there, forcing the laminated paper into the palm of the sleeper, trying to push it into himself as well, making him believe what he was thinking. He was mentally shouting now.

**WAKE UP!** Please! Wake up for me! For me, Ran!

Ran... that's my name...no...why am I going back...no...not that, no...no more pain...please...I won't go back...oh God, not that...too hard, it hurts... it hurts so bad...my hand...mine...for us...wake up...yes...for us...aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

Schuldich sat up in bed suddenly, the sheets sliding off his bare chest, one hand pressed hard onto his forehead, teeth grinding in pain. He gingerly took his hand away from his temple, and then grinned. He looked at his bedfellow. He sent a rather crude mental wakeup call, and beamed at the results. Crawford yelped as he fell out the other side of the bed, pulling the sheets with him as he went. He looked up at Schuldich, with a look that successfully combined hate and lust perfectly.

"Thanks for that Schu. You know, you could have just poked me or something." Brad rubbed his forehead. "And, please, I do not need you rolling around naked in my head at 5am."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Schuldich looked pointedly at Crawford's crotch. The black haired man sighed.

"Are you always this horny in the morning?"

"I'm horny all the time. Now, moving onto more urgent matters..." Schuldich slid off the edge of the bed, and landed heavily on Brad's chest. "Our most dearly beloved Fujimiya junior has finally got back."

"Schuuuuuu!" Brad was getting slightly peeved at the fact that Schu wasn't responding to his rocking hips.

"And you call **me** horny? Jeez, wait for a guy to finish, will ya?" He leaned forwards to push his tongue deep into Crawford's mouth, and then settled back on his hips. "Well, the playboy's there. And he's not the gifted one. And I can feel who is."

"What the hell?! So the brat's a mind-fucker like you?" Schuldich began to move his pelvis with his lover's, and leant forwards to whisper in his ear...

"I resent that, Crawly. But yes, it's him. His parents could have passed it on, they might have been gifted. Note the emphasis on gifted, not 'mind-fucker'." Brad moaned as Schuldich's tongue began to slide down him, breezing gently past his navel, his hips...

"Oh...God!" Crawford threw his head back, and gasped for air, his sensations fed by the mental images Schuldich lovingly passed into him.

Ran woke up.

It happened exactly like in Youji's dreams. His eyelids flew open, the sight completely unfocused, and he screamed. Somehow, Youji, deep inside himself, wished it was the dream again, that it could end, and he wouldn't have to watch his lover suffer in this pain...

But the dream went on, and Youji found his hand gripped vice-like in Ran's hand, and the soul-rending scream ended as the medics ran in. Men and women in white surrounded the bed, and double-checked monitors.

"Sir? We're going to have to ask you to leave..."

"No. He stays." A clear voice cut through the hubbub of monitors. Ran looked up at Youji, and tightened his grip. Youji smiled, although the hand was crushing his fingers into numbness. Ran smiled back, violet eyes softening.

Thank all Gods for that...Don't think I could leave...

"Trust me, I won't let you." Ran turned to the medics around him. "I'm okay now, just waking up is kinda a shock." Then he smiled. Weakly, but it was a smile all the same. Youji was stunned. He could count on the fingers of one knee how many times he'd seen Ran smile. Then Ran turned his attention to the pillows. "Can someone help me up on these things...?"

A few minutes later, of nurses fussing around, removing wires, re-attaching others and glancing at the clasped hands, they all left through the swinging doors, the last doctor pulled the curtains around the bed shut. Youji was glad of the privacy. The other occupants of the recovery room were beginning to stare. Ran was lying back against the pillows; hand still clamped round Youji's fingers, his eyes roving over the brunette's face, eventually settling on the emerald eyes brimming with tears.

"Why the tears?" Ran gently changed the grip on Youji's hand, and interlaced his pale fingers with Youji's, holding the photo pinned between their palms. He brought both their hands up to his chest, pulling Youji with him. His strength for someone who just came out of a coma was scarily powerful. "For you, for me. For us."

A saline tear spun down Youji's high cheekbones. Ran lifted his free hand and wiped it away with two fingers. He didn't lower his hand but looped it round the back of Youji's neck and drew him close, close enough so that their noses were almost touching.

Oh Gods, I love you...

Instinctively Youji lowered his lips to meet Ran's, and was lost to the world. Everything was that one point of contact, his mouth opening slightly, just enough to let Ran move inside him, tongue sliding over his teeth. Youji pulled back for air, chest heaving, not just from oxygen deprivation. He voiced his thoughts again.

"Oh God, I love you..."

"I know... I know..." Ran smiled, and Youji was filled with an inane happiness and joy that overrode all other emotions. "I love you too, and always will Youji."

Youji almost laughed. It seemed so natural, but he still couldn't believe that these words were coming from the man lying in front of him. For lack of words, he leaned forwards into another kiss. It seemed they stayed like that forever, mouths moving gently, pressed together, sharing the same breath. This time Ran broke the kiss, the need for air outweighing his need for Youji.

The curtain twitched back, and Omi was standing there, one arm around Ken, foot bandaged and on crutches. Youji's spine involuntarily snapped back into a standing position, his hand still held tight against the swordsman's chest. Omi's face broke into a puzzled grin, but he almost threw himself at Ran, embracing him in a bear hug, leaving Ken trying to find his balance.

"Hey, Omitichi! Let me breathe!" Ran was grinned over Omi's shoulder, and then he let Youji's hand go, but kept the photo folded in his hand. Omi released Ran, and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed.

"The hospital called us on my cell phone, and said you were awake, so we came here fast as we could! It's sooooo good you're awake! It hasn't been the same without you!"

"Thanks Omi! Yo, Ken, what happened to you?" Ran had caught sight of the limping footballer.

"Stood on some glass this morning." He pulled a face and waved the crutch around, aiming for some sympathy.

"Errr... Sorry Ken-kun, that was me..." Youji was blushing, guilt creeping over his face. Ken waved his crutch in dismissal.

"It's fine, Yotan, I heal quick. Anyway, welcome back! You wouldn't believe the number of girls we had crying when we said you were ill! They all sent cookies and some even knitted jumpers, all in hideous shades of orange. I swear, they keep our shifts pinned by their beds..." Ran was shaking his head in disbelief.

"You know, I never thought I'd be that popular with girls... Just proves that crazy things happen, na?" Violet eyes flashed at Youji along with a suggestive smile. "And the next question is... When can I get out of here? I'd rather be surrounded by adoring fans than doctors."

A nurse entered, looking slightly anxious, and clutching a clipboard.

"Excuse me, sir, but we have information I think you need to know about..."

Shock Horror! What's the news? Well, you'll have to find out by reading on!

Wheeee! Schu and Brad, Ran and Youji, very nearly Omi and Ken! Ah joy! Well, next chapter should be coming along soon! So wait around, and I'll try and do it soon!


	6. Red Rose Rising Chapter 5

Red Rose Rising Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters not mine, they belong to a wondrous artist who I worship, and I'm not making any money, so don't sue me please. Please? Pretty please?

…text…denotes personal thoughts.

A nurse entered, looking slightly anxious, and clutching a clipboard.

"Excuse me, sir, but we have information I think you need to know about…" She was young, maybe only just out of training. Glancing round at the other three men, she swallowed, then continued:

"Technically, I'm not supposed to let you know until other tests have been done, so I need your signature…"

"Of course." Ran reached out for the clipboard and the proffered pen. He handed it back, having signed on the dotted line. "What's happened?"

"Well, really it's two things, first, you received an unauthorised blood sample from an unknown donor- " Youji paled.

Shit! Why's it sound so bad? Am I ill or something…

"Which is not the current concern, seeing as how you have no ill-effects – "

Thanks to any Gods up there…

"But you're on the contact details of another patient - " Ran suddenly paled, a far deeper shock ran through the swordsman's mind. The nurse registered this, and continued swiftly.

"Sir, your sister just woke up."

Youji was silently panicking. It seemed a commonplace emotion here, in the hospital where so much seemed at stake. Omi was sitting wide-eyed on the bed, both hands on the stark sheets; Ken was staring at the nurse. Ran was breathing hard and shallow, his eyes focussing and unfocusing spasmodically, his hand twitching slightly, half clenching around the photograph then relaxing again.

"Ran?" Youji waved his shaking hand in front of Ran. No response. "Ran? RAN?" He didn't see the nurse push the alarm by the side of the bed, nor did he see Ken wrap his arms about the crying Omi and pull him off the bed. He was screaming deep inside, fresh tears flowing down his face, fast following the trails of the others.

The nurse took hold of Ran's wrist and counted under her breath the pulse, and watching her moving lips Youji could tell Ran's heart was contracting fast, so fast he could almost hear it's thundering. Fast, but not fast enough that he'd normally be in trouble, but combined with the twitches and the unfocused eyes, was it going to be a worry. Two other nurses pushed through the thin hospital curtain, and unearthing a needle from a drawer somewhere, pushed it deep into Ran's arm. Youji shut his eyes, terrified of the needle, fumbled for his lover's hand and found it, and held on tight.

……..

Ran was recessed deep inside his mind, forcing something out, or in, he couldn't remember… Then it hit him again, a sharp, twisting pain, something burrowing it's way into his head…Again and again, that thing, something he half remembered struck his consciousness. Mentally he writhed away from it, trying to stop it finding him, but subconsciously knowing he could never escape it…that was strange… Why was he so afraid? He felt a sudden break in the onslaught, and a new peace flew over him, bringing with it an image of a girl with auburn hair and shut eyes, and she was screaming, screaming, over and over again, as she threw herself from side to side with the effort of holding onto something she needed, loved…

The agony struck again, raising his heart beat fluttering fast, pumping rich blood round and round his head, till it came to a roaring, deafening black height that crashed back, revealing more black waves behind it, seething and teeming with flecks of black shimmering sparks of fresh pain arising. He screamed inside his head again as something touched him, something from the physical plane. Shallow warmth spread out from the point of contact, and the threatening black of the waves rose higher and higher above him. He screamed again as something lanced through his head, a pure stream of that terrifying black sea forcing it's way through his mind till it pooled in a secure resting place, never to be dislodged again.

……..

Youji was sitting by the hospital bed, staring forlornly at rumpled sheets, twisted lines and a death-white figure, lying still. This was more worrying than the compulsive twitching and spasms, although he knew this sleep was brought on by sedatives and morphine, it felt too strange to see someone lying that still – who wasn't ready for a coffin. Catching his thoughts and their apparent portents, he threw them aside, letting a white pureness seep into his head. Faint rasps of air being drawn in through an oxygen mask and a quiet beep-beep of a heart monitor were the only signs that Ran was not dead. It scared him how easily life seemed to ebb and flow, either coming in or going out, and how little control anyone had over it. All these machines, chemical drips were only another way of cheating death for a short while, till old and decrepit or young and crippled, not even the very breath of God could bring you back, safe and alive. Wouldn't it make sense then, just to die the second you were born? To escape the frailties and scenarios that life threw up at you from nowhere, and dragged you further into a hell-hole of depression and suicide, to not even bother to open your eyes, and say 'thank you' when you finally escaped the ties to the corpse you animated? Looking up again at the silhouetted figure on the bed – thin sheets falling gently over a slim body, seeming so thin you could hold it in one hand – he realised something he'd never thought about before.

If life is only made worthwhile by death, and life is chronicled by memories, then isn't life just thoughts in your head? Thoughts that could be wiped out by something greater, something that provoked all irrationality, that meant you ended up doing the stupidest things, just so that someone else could live a little longer? So, if that's true then…

Isn't life just there to give you time to love?

Love, pure crazy love. Isn't that the reason that he was sitting here? Wasn't that the reason why he gave his blood so fast? Wasn't that why…

Too many whys and wherefores. Love cancelled all that out, and took you over, but yet still made you blossom into yourself in a new dimension you never even realised you possessed?

Yes, that was life. He thought, and you know what else? Screw Kritiker. Screw both my jobs. Screw everything and anything that stops me doing what life is meant for. He was here because he was in love, and he was in love with Ran.

……..

Ran woke up slowly the next day, his head still groggy from the drugs and the rough entry of the black waves. But he knew where he was, and why he was there. That seemed to really matter for some reason he couldn't remember why…

Somehow all the noises seemed louder, harsher and more intense than he remembered. He could hear the nurse whispering to her friend in the corridor as if she was standing right next to him, and random comments that didn't seem to fit.

Over all these other noises came two things – first was the irritating drips in his arms, and the oxygen mask over his face, he tried to raise his hand to move the mask, but after raising it a little way, he gave up, the muscles too weak to continue. Second, he felt a small sensation in his head that could only be called a crackle. It felt like someone was crushing a sweet-wrapper in his head, and the sound that it would usually make was vibrating through his head as a feeling, a wave of feeling. But still it felt like it was coming from outside his body, but it couldn't be…

"Oh God, no…"


End file.
